


Wonderful

by mhunter10



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Angst, Bipolar Ian Gallagher, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Gen, Happy Ending, Heavy Drinking, M/M, Non-Graphic Violence, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-13
Updated: 2018-09-14
Packaged: 2019-06-27 01:24:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15675210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mhunter10/pseuds/mhunter10
Summary: Ian Gallagher finds himself longing for the home he can’t stand sometimes, when he gets caught up and lands himself in a world of trouble.





	1. Thanksgiving

Ian looked around at his family. They were all squeezed together at their shitty dining room table that Debbie had cleared off earlier. And, as usual, everyone was talking loudly at once so that Ian only caught snippets of conversation between bites of food.

"Just set some damn traps and call it a day," Vee suggested, waving her husband off.

"Then who's gonna get the dead mice from the traps, huh? What if they chew their arms off, Vee?"

"Quit being a big coward and get it done, Kev."

"I swear, you're the dumbest smart person I know, Lip," Fiona said while trying to get Liam to eat and Carl to stop playing with his scraps.

Lip grinned and shrugged drunkenly in his chair.

"Trust me, I can solve all your problems if you just listen to me," Frank raised his voice, about to spout off another scam or scheme.

"Shut up, Frank!" Everyone said in unison.

Monica kissed his shoulder before dragging him away from the table with a giggle; Frank muttering about their wicked ungrateful kids.

Debbie rolled her eyes, but smiled sweetly when Ian's eyes landed on her.

How was it that this was their normal? Everyone screaming and cussing one moment about losing the house or the kids, then laughing like nothing could ever touch them? That was the Gallaghers, and the Balls, and anyone else who found themselves swept up in their messy wake.

Ian got up, not full from the little he did eat just to get his pills down, and went to get his coat hanging by the front door. He passed the tv, glancing at the headline warning of hurricane Dorothy. It had developed fast and was moving in faster from the coast. The lakes were already rising with all the rain, and the boats were being knocked about by the wind. It was going to get worse before it got better, but Ian desperately needed a smoke or anything to get away from it all.

Thanksgiving at the Gallagher house never turned out good, but he couldn’t imagine the Milkoviches getting along over turkey and mashed potatoes. Mandy was nice enough and Mickey had his moments when he wasn’t completely devoid of emotions, but Terry was the worst; sending them all out to do his bidding.

Ian found himself on the front porch looking out at the empty street. There was lightning in the distance but the thunder sounded right over top of them, so he decided to quickly make a run for the van in the backyard. He dashed across the slippery grass, almost losing his footing, before yanking the door open. He climbed inside and slammed it shut.


	2. Hurricane

Ian sighed, trying to see through the windows as the rain came down in thick sheets. He had just made it before it really started, but now he was probably going to be trapped while it passed. It was looking bad and he hadn’t exactly said where he was going to anyone, but knowing them they wouldn't be alarmed by his disappearance. Debbie might ask, but no one would hear her or take her seriously. She was too nice and innocent, but yet the Southside hadn’t ruined her.

A loud thunderous rumble from overhead made the van shake. The rain got impossibly harder, flashes brighter and cracks sharper. Ian could barely see the house anymore, in fact, he couldn’t see much of anything. The wind began pushing the van so that it rocked from side to side, croaking and squeaking from the force. He reached into his pocket for his cell phone, feeling his long forgotten cigarettes, but it had no signal. Maybe if he got out now, he could make it back to the house or somewhere safer before it got worse. But that was unlikely, as debris was now rolling and flying around the van. Trashcans tumbled and sped past, Carl's bike missed the windshield by inches, and their ghetto pool flew upwards out of sight with the ladder.

"Shit," Ian was beginning to panic, as he tried to get the door open. It wouldn't  budge and he noticed the rapidly rising water outside. He frantically shouldered and kicked until he was exhausted, banging hopelessly and shouting for anyone. It was no use.

And then the van began to sway and move, as if being lifted on the high winds or floating on a choppy lake. It began to spin around, tossing Ian around inside. He thinks he hears a female voice, Debbie or Fiona or even Monica, then there's a loud crack like splintering wood.

Ian is slammed into the window when everything stops.


	3. Dead

Ian blinks his eyes open, shielding them from the bright sun. His head hurts and he remembers he's not in his bed. He also remembers the storm and is glad he seems to have survived through the night. He imagines everyone at least wondering where he is at breakfast, so he gets up and opens the door of the van. He looks around to assess the damage, as he steps out, but everything looks fine. He thinks he must have hit his head pretty hard or maybe even dreamed the worst of the hurricane, because the ground is completely dry and the sky is clear. There are a few white clouds rolling slowly by and birds chirping.

The biggest difference, Ian finally registers, is that the house is gone. Or maybe, he's the one that's moved? But it still looks like their fenced-in yard and side lot. There are toys strewn across the perfectly green grass that should've had dry patches and dug-up holes. It looks like a Northside lawn with flowers and trees. Ian shakes his head, wondering just what the hell is going on. He’s scared he may be having an episode and is relieved when he finally sees someone familiar walking towards him.

"Fiona!" He meets her halfway, glad to see she isn't too worried, but confused by the annoyed look on her face.

"Who?" She asks, not even looking at him. Instead, she's looking past him back at the van.

"Fi, what’s--"

"Huh. Well I'll be damned," she says, shaking her head and crossing her arms.

Ian stares at her another moment, expecting her to look at him but she doesn't, so he turns to see what's more important than him this time.

"Holy fuck! Shit!" Ian gasps, covering his mouth in surprise and shock. The van had seemed to be in the same spot it always was, but somehow it had slammed into a tree in the yard. Not only was the front half crushed, but it was unmistakably pinning his mother so that her body slumped over the hood.

"Dead," Fiona says next to him, sucking her teeth.

"She's dead? But--" Ian cuts himself off, not sure what question to ask first. He looks back at Monica, still wearing what she was wearing at dinner, her blond hair covering her face. He wants to move, but he can't.

Fiona laughs bitterly, but there’s an underlying sadness to it. "Of course she would do this."

"Do what?" Suddenly Debbie is standing there with them, having come from somewhere Ian didn’t see.

"Debbie," he begins, not wanting her to see her mother like this.

"Who?" She questions just as Fiona had, then steps closer. "Oh."

"Just what I need now, stuck taking care of her little munchkin," and like magic, Liam appears at Fiona’s hip. He points at the body and giggles. Ian hears more childlike snickering nearby but doesn't see anyone else around.

"And I'll need help with the daycare," Debbie says matter of fact.

"What the hell is going on? You two are acting like she wasn't our mother!" Ian shouts, fed up with his sisters.

"Oh, Ian," Debbie says, coming over and cupping his cheek. She gives him a warm smile that seems to take all his anger and confusion away at once. "Are you alright?"

It reminds Ian of being in the hospital; his younger sister just wanting to know if he's going to be okay and him desperately wanting to say yes so they get him out of there. Now, their eyes meet and his breathing slows down.

"I wanna wake up," he says, taking her hand, "or go back or start over. Whatever this is...I just want to go home."

"Hmm, I'm not sure if I can do that," she answers, frowning slightly.

"Only way that's happening is if you talk to him," Fiona says, taking something from Monica's wrist.

"Him?"

"Yeah, he's kinda great with that sorta stuff, so I hear."

"Who is he?"

"They say he took over when his twin brother's son went missing. Rumor has it he was born of an affair and is supposed to return to take his rightful place, but you can't believe everything you hear on the streets," Fiona explained, coming over to Ian and putting something on his wrist.

"How do I talk to him? What is this?" Ian looks at the shiny hospital band now on him with the initials MG.

"You'll need to go into the city," Debbie says, kissing his cheek. "The yellow line should get you there pretty safely."

"And whatever you do, don't take that off, okay?" Fiona said sternly.

Ian was still looking down at the wristband, watching it sort of glitter in the sunlight. "Why? What will happen?"

He looked up and was standing on the sidewalk on his street. Fiona, Debbie, Monica and the van were gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you get what this story is, please don't spoil it for others! Thx


	4. Impaired

Ian doesn’t know how long he's been walking. Even though his surroundings are familiar, it's all strangely off in some way. He also hasn't seen another person, which is the complete opposite of his neighborhood. You couldn't go anywhere or do anything without seeing someone else. He felt lonely now, wishing he could just snap out of whatever was happening to him.

He finally reached the stairs leading to the train platform that would take him into the city. He climbed them, looking on both tracks to see if anything was coming. He hadn’t heard anything since he'd began his journey, so he wasn’t even sure he was doing the right thing. He sat down on a bench, resting for the first time and realizing he might have to find food and shelter before it got dark. He sighed, rubbing his fingers through his hair and closing his eyes. He went over what Fiona and Debbie had said again, cursing the fact they hadn't elaborated much. He needed to find this guy and ask him to...to what, exactly?

"Wha-what're you doin'?" A voice slurred from behind him.

"Thinking," Ian answered before looking to the other side of the bench. His eyebrows shot up. "Lip?"

"Who? What's that?" He asked, hiccuping. He seemed to be swaying slightly.

"Thinking?"

Lip nodded.

"You've never thought before?"

Lip blinked. "I don't think so."

Ian stared at him a moment, narrowing his eyes. "Say that again slowly."

Lip just chuckled, producing a bottle from somewhere and taking two big gulps. He almost fell off the bench, tipping his head back to swallow the liquid. He offered Ian some, but pulled it away before he could even decline.

"Sssoo, where're we goin'?"

Ian crossed his arms and turned away, if only to get away from the intense alcohol on his brother's breath. His hair was messy and there was dirt on his clothes like when he’d barely survived a day in construction. There was a cocktail straw stuck behind his ear.

"I'm going to speak to this guy so he can do something for me."

"An older guy wants to do something for you?" Lip managed to get the whole sentence out before belching. "Sounds like a creep."

Ian shook his head. "It's not like that. He’s the only one that can help me get home." Saying it out loud made him want to go back even more. He looked and saw the train coming in the distance.

Lip leaned in looking serious and sober for a moment. "You know, he'll probably want something from you."

Ian looked at his drunk brother, remembering a similar conversation that involved him not approving of his choices in partners. He took another swig from his bottle and grinned, before grabbing a hold of Ian’s arm roughly and using him to get to his feet.

"Hey!" Ian couldn’t exactly just let him go, afraid he would fall onto the tracks with how bad he was struggling to stay upright.

"I'm coming with you, Ian!" Lip yelled, holding his bottle up. He took a few shakey steps, amused with himself for accomplishing that much despite still hanging onto Ian. "I'm gonna ask him to help me figure out why I do dumb shit," he whispered with a giggle.

Ian took the bottle from his hand and left it on the bench, as the train pulled in. "You can start by not killing the rest of your brain cells."

"Can't kill what isn't there," Lip said, mindlessly staring off.

Ian wrestled him onto the train and into a seat. They were the only ones in the car and Ian couldn’t tell if there was an operator. Lip sunk down next to him, leaning his head on his shoulder and passing out before the train had fully left the station .

At least he wasn’t alone now.


	5. Cold

Ian doesn’t realize he's fallen asleep until he feels the train come to a hard stop. He looks around and is surprised to see it's dark out. He looks over and sees Lip curled up on another seat clutching a flask to his chest like a blanket. The doors of the train open but there's still no announcement of where they are or what stop is next. Figuring they must be meant to get off when they stay open, he rouses his brother and they exit the car. There’s only one set of stairs leading out of the subway, so they take them. It leads them out to a patchy yard surrounded by tall fences with barbed wire at the tops. A big, brick building stands in front of them with a heavy metal door sitting ajar. Ian looks at Lip but all he does is shrug, so Ian leads the way.

Once inside, they walk down long hallways lit with fluorescent lights. If he didn't know it was a jail, Ian would've thought he was back in the hospital. The only difference was the cement walls weren’t painted a very uncalming shade of pastel green. Some of the hallways were lined with doors, which they both tried to open but were locked. There was a stairwell that only went down, so they kept moving until they got to a basement. It was darker than the halls upstairs, only lit with a few hanging lights. Lip grabbed his shoulder, half for balance and half to get his attention. 

"Do you think we're supposed to be down here?"

It was Ian’s turn to shrug. He didn’t know any more than him, which wasn't exactly comforting considering he was probably one drink away from permanent brain damage. But he figured if he ever wanted to get back to where he belongs, he'd have to go a few places he didn’t.

"Hello?" He called, realizing there were cells around them. Most of them were empty and someone going to jump them wasn’t going to answer, but at least it was proactive. "Is there anyone down here?"

"Who's askin'?" A voice came from one of the cells in the far corner.

"Uh...uh, I'm Ian," he stammered, not expecting a follow-up question. He walked closer, squinting in the sparce light provided, then his eyes got big. "Mickey?"

"Who? What did you call me?" He asked, coming closer to the bars. "What the fuck do you want?"

Ian got over his shock quickly, the harsh tone reminding him who he was dealing with. Mickey’s eyes were a brilliant steely blue like the flame of a soldering torch in the dark. He wore a gray jumpsuit with a label that read 'Property of T.Industries'.

Ian crossed his arms and stood a little taller. "I'm going to speak to someone about getting me home. He's coming to ask for help too," he gestured towards Lip who just stared at Mickey.

"I didn't ask for your life story, man."

Lip scoffed.

"Look, we're just trying to get to the city. Do you know another way out of here?" Ian asked, noticing a silver ring on his tattooed finger that looked like it was made of foil.

"If I knew another way, I wouldn't still fucking be here," Mickey spat, gripping the bar tighter.

Ian sighed, frustrated with himself for not knowing what to do next. It felt like getting back was going to get harder before it got easier. Lip grabbed his arm.

"Let's just go back the way we came. There’s nothing here," he said, giving Mickey a look. "Even I know a jerk when I see one."

Ian looked at Mickey disappointed, seeing nothing in his face. He and Lip turned back towards the stairs.

"Ian, wait!" Mickey shouted, making him look at him. "Don't..."

Ian walked back to the cell, surprised by the sudden softness in his voice and pleading look in his eyes. "Don't what?"

Mickey licked his lips. "Just...take me with you. If this guy can do anything, he can make me not like this."

"He's not  _that_ powerful," Lip commented, sipping from a bottle out of nowhere.

Ian ignored him, still looking at Mickey. At first he thought he meant his current situation but that wouldn't make sense if he was going with them.

"I've been stuck in this tin can for so long ever since my old man found out about my...," he paused, remembering something distant then continued. "Anyway, I'm a little rusty when it comes to people." It wasn’t an apology for his lack of social skills, but it explained a lot.

Ian nodded, wanting to ask what happened but not wanting to get his head chopped off. "I won't leave you," he said, almost missing the change in Mickey’s hard features.

Lip chose that moment to vomit up his liquid diet. He wiped his mouth and looked up at them. "Sorry. Something must've made me sick."

Ian rolled his eyes. "We're gonna get you out of here."

With Lips reluctant help, they searched around for anything they could use to open the cell. There were no keys or tools to cut the bars, and the hinges didn’t give even with all three of them trying, although Ian was a bit distracted by just how strong Mickey’s biceps were. It didn’t help that Mickey had been watching him too. They gave up on brute force and took a rest.

Lip pulled out another full bottle and a utility keychain. He opened the bottle with ease and drank half before realizing they were staring at him. "What?" He burped.

"You had that the whole time!" Ian yelled, reaching for it to find a small enough tool to pick the lock.

"Oh. Guess it just slipped my mind," he shrugged.

"Are you fucking serious? Is he fucking serious?" Mickey growled, impatiently watching as Ian worked. Finally the cell door swung open and he went straight for Lip, fisting his shirt. "Are you fucking stupid?"

"At least I'm not an asshole!" Lip shoved him.

Mickey laughed sarcastically, going for him again but Ian came between them.

"Hey! You guys are both dicks, so can we just go now?" Ian had his hand on Mickey’s chest and could feel his quick breathing. Lip shrugged, stumbling away. Ian was satisfied with that so he began to lead the way.

"Not so fast, alright? Sometimes my old wounds make me freeze up," Mickey said, following behind him.

This was going to take longer than Ian thought.


	6. Gutless

The three of them walked through the night, although Ian was the only one really keeping a pace. The other two staggered and stopped, bickering behind him about everything it seemed. And although Ian hadn’t seen anyone else, he kept feeling like they were being watched; by whom, he wasn’t sure yet. He kept them moving irregardless, glad this world didn’t have hunger or tiredness.

"Do you think we're there yet?" Lip asked, slurring a little. Honestly he was slurring more than not so it was hard to tell when he wasn’t.

"I don't know, but we have to be closer, right?" Ian turned to look at them, stopping ahead.

Lip looked like he'd forgotten he'd asked a question, and Mickey was massaging his thigh. Neither responded, something that was getting pretty old. Ian sighed and sat down on the sidewalk. He fiddled with his phone for a minute, knowing he definitely wouldn't have service wherever he was. He wished he could call the real Fiona and get a tough love talk. The real Lip would know what to do and probably have some good weed. He looked around just to see if he recognized where they were. There were no street names but some of the buildings looked familiar enough. He spotted a bar that reminded him of The Alibi and was exited by the feeling of home it gave him, despite most of the memories being associated with a drunk Frank. He looked closer and realized there were eyes looking out one of the windows.

Ian stood in surprise, pointing across the street. "Th-there's someone in there." He looked closer and the eyes seemed to widen in fright then they were gone. "There’s definitely someone in there."

"They on our side?" Mickey asked wryly, suddenly producing a silver pistol out of his jumpsuit.

"Where the hell did you get that?" Ian watched Mickey check the barrel and take the safety off with practiced skill. It was sort of intriguing, the way he handled it the way the real Mickey probably did.

Mickey shrugged. "Gotta protect myself, don't I? And shit I care about,"

"Like what?" Lip asked clearly with more bite than interest, wanting to jab at him.

"Not you," he got in his face.

"Him?" Lip thumbed at Ian, grinning when he saw Mickey falter.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Mickey stepped back.

"Stop, okay? Let's go," Ian got between them, trying to ignore what he heard and saw. "Put that thing away until I say so, alright?"

Mickey nodded, flashing daggers at Lip if he even dared to say anything. He just smiled but it was enough to get Mickey to flip him off.

The three went into the bar and looked around. Lip promptly went over to grab a beer and Mickey actually joined him. They sat on stools and clinked their glasses, probably to making Ian more miserable with them.

"We know you're here! Come out so we can talk!" Ian shouted, thinking he heard something.

Lip burped and Mickey laughed. Ian rolled his eyes but waited for anything. Several seconds passed and then a very tall man with long brown hair popped up from behind the bar pointing a shotgun at them all. All of them screamed at once and backed away.

"Kev?" Ian questioned from the floor where he flung himself.

"WHO? GET OUT OR...OR I'LL, YOU KNOW, I'LL...I'LL--"

"Get to the point? Finish a fucking sentence? That thing isn't even loaded right. All you're gonna do is blow your fingers off." Mickey got up from where he fell off his seat, scoffing at the guy with disgust at his inept.

"YOU CAN'T ROB ME! I HAVE THE HIGHER GROUND!"

"No you don't," Lip pointed out, still holding his beer through the chaos.

Kevin looked around confused then held his hands up in surrender. "Just don't hurt me, please?"

"Why would we hurt you? I just want to talk," Ian said, slowly coming closer.

"Stay back!"

"You realize you're, like, six one, right? What are you afraid of?" Mickey sat down, rubbing his knees.

Kevin shrugged. "I know, I know. Always been like that, I guess, but getting all my stuff stolen isn't helping," he explained.

"Stolen by who?" Mickey asked, looking like he knew the answer he didn’t want to hear.

"Just stand up to them. Literally," Lip cut in.

Kevin put the gun back looking sad and defeated. "I just can't. I'm too--"

"Chicken shit?" Mickey supplied.

Ian gave him a look then went to Kevin. He patted his shoulder. "You're not. You just need--"

"Some balls," Lip suggested with a drunken laugh.

"Some confidence," Ian finished, ignoring the others. "We're all going to get help in the city. Come with us," he offered. 

Kevin thought about it. "That sounds dangerous. What if there are...mice?"

"Mice? There are rats the size of your--"

"Stop," Ian warned. He looked back at Kevin. "Just come. He’s got a gun and he can use it."

"Damn right," Mickey grinned.

"I'll stay here," Lip said, uncorking some wine and chugging it.

"We're all going. C'mon."

The four of them left the bar and headed closer to the city.


	7. Tweak

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long update :)

"Are we there yet?" Kevin whined, dragging his feet worse than Lip.

Ian was getting angry. It felt like they'd been going for hours. They had finally seen the city skyline, but it didn't seem to be getting any closer no matter which path they took. He clinched his fists and breathed evenly, not wanting to yell and spook him.

"No, and don't ask again...please," he added, trying to sound as calm and not-annoyed as possible.

"Thank, Him," Mickey muttered, limping along to keep up with Ian, which allowed them to exchange looks and sometimes brush shoulders.

Kevin looked sad and worriedly at Lip, who tossed a mini bottle of vodka behind him to add to his trail like breadcrumbs.

"Is he mad at me?" He whispered, but it was still loud enough for everyone to hear. "He’s mad at me, right? Oh no, he's mad at--"

Ian spun around, making everyone stumble to a halt. "I'm not MAD!" He shouted, regretting it instantly when Kevin starts tearing up. "Oh, Kev...Kevin, I'm sorry, just..." he sighed.

Mickey pressed a hand to Ian’s chest, pushing him away a bit and encouraging him to continue walking. He looked at him. "Hey, what's your problem?" It's a harsh statement but Mickey’s been working on his tone.

"I don't know. Maybe it's this place. I feel all out of wack the closer we get to reaching the city. Feels like we're...being watched? But that's crazy, right?" Ian turns to him, looking for answers.

Mickey opens his mouth, thinks about something, then closes it again. He shrugs.

Ian doesn’t miss this. He narrows his eyes and lowers his voice. Kev sniffles behind him. "You know something." He knows it’s true and Mickey’s face confirms it.

Mickey shakes his head. "Couldn't. Been locked up," he denies. He sees Ian eye the name on his jumpsuit, and is relieved when he doesn't ask about it. He doesn’t let up completely, though.

"Then why do you need a pistol? Who's out there?"

"Who's out where?" Lip chimes in, having been listening the whole time. He shrugs when Ian glares at him. 

Kevin's eyes go wide and he frantically looks around. "Who? What's after us? Is it the mice?" He looks scared.

"What is it with you and mice? You're like a fucking elephant," Mickey griped, mad his time with Ian was interrupted. 

"What's that supposed to mean?" Kevin's voice wavers.

"Nothing. We're fine, everything is fine, okay?" Ian tries to calm him down. They can't afford to keep stopping like this. They need to keep moving if he ever wants to get back home.

"Everything's fine?" Kev asks.

Ian nods and even puts on a smile. "Yes. Mick, tell him everything's fine." He taps Mickey’s hand.

Mickey stutters then licks his lips, eyes darting from Ian to where he'd touched him to Kevin. "Y-yeah. Everything's kosher, dude, sure."

Ian looks less than happy with his attempt, so he turns to Lip as a last resort when Kev still looks unsure.

"Lip? We're fine?"

"Yep,"

"See?" Ian can see the man relax. Finally they can...

"Except for there's a guy," Lip continues, thumbing over his shoulder and sloshing some liquid in another bottle.

"A guy?" Ian asks.

Mickey pulls his pistol, eyes sharpening.

"Been following us since you made him cry," Lip points to Kev.

They all see the guy now. He’s slow but definitely walking in their direction.

"How long have you known?" Ian wants to hit him so badly.

"Why didn't you fucking say something?" Mickey points at Lip with his pistol.

"Mickey," Ian warns softly.

"WHO THE HELL IS THAT?!" Kevin screams, scrambling to hide behind Mickey and Ian.

Lip still looks unfazed. "Thought you knew." He takes a sip from the bottle, looking almost amused.

The man is closer.

"No, you didn't think, dipshit," Mickey growled, pointing the pistol at the hooded figure too close for comfort now.

"This isn't my fault," Lip started, but was cut off by a loud scraping, screeching sound.

They all covered their ears, turning to the man who was feet from them. This close, it was clear he wasn’t a man at all, not totally. He had black eyes like beads and long front teeth. He looked dirty and smelled awful. He reached for them, extending two claw-like hands. They all yelled.

"Holy fuck! He was right!"

"MICE!"

"It's a rat, actually!"

"RUN!"

Ian finally grabbed them all and started to run. They sprinted down the block, pushing and skidding around a corner. Another rat-guy was waiting for them, breathing hot garbage breath in their faces. The first one caught up as another spotted them. Mickey shot into the air to scare them off, which only gave them a small window to escape and it pissed off even more rat-guys nearby. They were all shrieking after them, scurrying and climbing to catch their prey. They kept running, Ian leading them further into the city.

"Shoot them!" Lip yelled, falling all over himself.

"Too many!" Mickey said, firing another shot into the air. He groaned when it didn’t slow them down, his legs aching from running.

"I'M SCARED, IAN!

Ian had to think fast, they couldn't keep going. Even he was getting exhausted. He saw something flash and thought it was Mickey’s pistol, but a streetlight had reflected off the silver band Fiona had given him and warned him not to take off. There was a sound as one of the rat-guys squeaked in pain and fell. He angled his wrist so another beam went straight into a second guy's eyes. He fell in pain too.

"Do that again," Mickey said, almost looking in awe of Ian.

Ian nodded, bouncing rays of light and taking down the rat-guys until they could safely get away. He saw a neon sign shaped like a flower on a brick building and pushed everyone towards it. "Go, go, go."

They all went inside, slamming the door behind them. They were panting and breathing hard. Lip chugged a bottle of gin, sliding down the wall. Ian patted Kevin's shoulder, assuring him they were fine where they were...

"Where the hell are we?" Mickey asked, eyes wide. He looked uncomfortable and on edge.

There were green lights and music playing through large speakers. There were couches and stages and poles. There was a bar in the corner fully stocked. Lip hurriedly got up and made a b-line for it, but Mickey held him back when a man appeared.

"Hiya," he greeted them in a smooth, sultry voice. He wiggled his fingers at them. "Can I get you boys a drink? Ya'll look...thirsty." He winked at Ian, who had stood up and walked closer.

"Yes, please!" Lip wrenched his arm out of Mickey’s grasp and went to the bar.

"How about you, big guy? See something you like?" Another slow, sexy voice called to Kevin from a couch.

"Vee," Ian said, blinking. It was so dark and foggy in there.

Kevin grinned, nodding and moving forward towards her.

"Hey," Mickey tried, but he was too big to stop. He turned to Ian. "Ian? Ian!" He snapped his fingers in front of his face.

"Hmm?" Ian's voice was deeper and he looked distracted. More people were appearing, all gorgeous, all making bedroom eyes at them. "What?"

"I think we should leave. Now," Mickey pleaded.

"Party pooper," a man says, then smiles at Ian. Ian laughs easily. Their eyes meet and hold. He reaches for Ian’s wrist, but Mickey stops his hand.

"Touch him and I break every knuckle," he warns, wishing Ian would snap out of it. "Ian, let's get out of here."

"So cold and rigid. I'll warm you up."

Mickey feels hands on him, rubbing and touching. It feels wrong and it's not who he wants to be doing it. "Off! Get the fuck off!

"Why you gotta be so cold?" The man takes Ian’s hand and Ian let's him, looking content and intrigued. His other hand beckons Ian to follow him with his finger and Ian starts to go. He’s transfixed by this other guy who's way more charming and much hotter than Mickey. 

"Ian, don't. Come with me," Mickey begs, trying to catch his dazed gaze.

Ian looks at him like he doesn't really see him. "Why?"

Mickey doesn’t know what to say. He hesitates and has to watch Ian be led away to a couch. Kev is making out with two women now. Lip slams his fifth glass of beer on the bar to applause and cheers. Mickey feels trapped and nervous here. He needs to do something.

Ian let's the man take him into the crowd and to a couch, where he pulls him down into his lap. Ian straddles him automatically. He feels like he can’t help it, like he’s not in control, but he can't make himself stop. He blinks to clear his eyes. He shakes his head because his mind feels clogged too. He feels happy, but it's a wild feeling. He tries to find Mickey, but the man pulls his attention.

"What's your name?"

He knows he shouldn't answer, but it slips out anyway.

"Ian."

The guy moans, grabbing at him. "Ian, huh? Where do you think you're going?"

Ian giggles. He doesn’t know where it came from. The guy kisses his neck and somewhere in the very shadow of his mind he thinks of Mickey doing the same. His hips buck and it's too much. He gets clarity for a few seconds, searching for his friends, for Mickey. But the guy is relentless. He squeezes Ian’s dick and licks at his mouth. He wants to give in, he almost does.

"Ever tried poppers?" The man whispers, showing the small pill on his tongue.

Ian shakes his head slowly, moves his arms slowly. His body feels heavy and his eyes droop. It smells like a field of flowers and it's so intoxicating. He really wants Mickey. He knows something bad is happening. The guy kisses him, trying to push the pill into his mouth and get the silver band off his wrist. Ian can’t move. He feels sleepy.

"Time's up, fuckface," Mickey growls, pulling Ian up and off the man. He falls weakly, barely conscious. "Ian? Ian! What did you do?" He demands.

"Did you think he wouldn't find you? That he wouldn't know?" The man asks, grinning slightly.

Mickey shoots him in the face with his pistol.

"What the hell, Mickey?" Lip slurs, spilling a martini at the sound of the shot.

Suddenly the sprinklers burst, raining water on everyone to douse the fire Mickey set in the bathroom.

"Party's over!" Mickey shouts, pointing his pistol at everyone. No one really moves, instead they all blink and stand there getting wet.

"You suck!" Someone says.

Mickey rolls his eyes. He knows he does. What else is new? So, he hoists Ian up on his shoulder. Kevin emerges from a harem of women and a few men, looking confused and disheveled.

"Get him," Mickey directs, pointing at Lip. "Let's go."

"Just one more, one more!" Lip stalls, downing two shots and going for a third. He hisses when Kevin lifts him and drags him from the bar.

They make it outside the club and there’s a truck waiting for them. The hood ornament is a horse with emerald eyes. Mickey looks around then ushers everyone inside. As soon as they're settled, it drives off.

Ian shivers and feels an arm tighten around him. He panics, not knowing where he is.

"Hey, hey, it's okay. Everything's fine," Mickey says. His eyes look so blue and soft and worried, not icy at all.

Ian doesn’t say anything. Instead, he lays his head on Mickey’s shoulder. He thinks he knows where they're headed.

Everything may be fine for now, but someone's definitely after them.

After him.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi :) This is something I've been wanting to write for a long, long...long time, so I decided to start it the week before I go back to school cuz I'm a Dumb Writer. Thanks for kudos and comments (encouragement) ♡


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